


His Sunshine

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: BAMF Amanda Brotzman, BLACKWING - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Imagination, Martin Centric, mentions of torture, the rowdy 3 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Martin has many dark thoughts, too many. But the person who can push all that away with her light is Amanda.





	His Sunshine

Martin had a lot of things he’d rather not talk about lurking in his brain. It’s not that his family wouldn’t understand. It’s more that they would, and try to make him feel better. He would appreciate it, but it wouldn’t help.  
Martin sat in the back of the van, cleaning his glasses. He didn’t need to, but he did it, anyways. Somehow, it helped. How, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to question whatever worked.  
Just outside the van, Vogel, Amanda, and Beast Girl were kicking up dust clouds as they danced around. Cross and Gripps were in the van with Martin. An old song from a band that had died before they were even born played through the van’s radio. The guitar was heavy, and fit with them, well.   
Amanda had changed since Wendimoor. For the better, Martin believed. She had been spirited when they first met, sure, but her confidence had skyrocketed. And being what the locals had called, a “witchakookoo”, had helped. She finally believed she was as strong as Martin knew she already was.  
Since they left Wendimoor, she’d gotten bright yellow tips to her hair. She looked like a sunflower, in Martin’s eyes. And he’d seen many, on his wanderings with his boys, but she was the best, yet.  
Amanda took Vogel’s hand and spun him around, like Martin had seen on TV a few times.   
“Whoa, Drummer!” Vogel exclaimed, laughing all the way. Beast joined in with her odd laughter, but they all knew that the strange growling sound was glee.  
“C’mon, Vogel! Haven’t you seen those ballerinas on TV?” Amanda responded. Martin could listen to her voice forever.  
Vogel stopped, stretched his arms far above his head, linked his hands, and began to spin like mad. Amanda burst out laughing at the sight. Even Martin let out a little chuckle.  
Beast joined him in twirling like a maniac, but she couldn’t get her posture as straight as Vogel could, leading to an even funnier picture. Her hair whipped about, and narrowly avoided hitting Vogel in the face.  
Cross stood up, picked Beast up like it was nothing, and began spinning wildly, not even attempting to mimic ballerinas by this point. Amanda fell to the ground from laughter.  
Gripps was chuckling, watching them, and Martin allowed himself a smile. He stopped cleaning his glasses and put them back on to watch the sight. Amanda, still giggling a bit, looked up at Martin and smiled. Just for him.  
Martin couldn’t help the way his heart disobeyed him at that moment.

 

It was late in the night. In an hour, the sun would be rising, and so would Martin’s family. All of them were asleep in the back, except for Martin, himself. Amanda was dead to the world in the passenger seat, as their navigator.  
Her hair was draped over the seat’s headrest, brown leading into yellow near seamlessly. Her face was the picture of peace. But because Martin could only cast sparing glances while he was driving, his thoughts forced him elsewhere.  
Osmond Priest was at the forefront of his mind. All the things he’d done to the Rowdies, to Martin. Martin was just thankful Amanda and Vogel had escaped him. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if Amanda had been given the Priest treatment.  
Martin very much wanted to brush Amanda’s bangs away from her eyes. He didn’t. He wasn’t sure what kept him in place, but he stayed still, hands gripped on the wheel.  
Unbidden, his imagination wandered. If Amanda had been in Blackwing, with them, as she very nearly had been. She wouldn’t have been kept with them, surely not. But her Pararibulitis, that would’ve been of interest.   
She would’ve been poked and prodded, cut open and put back together again. And without the Rowdy 3 to soothe her illness, she would’ve had too rough of a time.  
Martin’s grip on the wheel tightened. If his hands hadn’t been on the wheel, they would’ve begun shaking. With anger. Fear, possibly? He didn’t know. All he knew was that Priest was still out there, and that he could still take them back. He could still find Beast Girl and experiment on her. He could still get his hands on Amanda. And without her Pararibulitis, and her connection to Wendimoor, she would be an ordinary human. Just in Priest’s way, easily eliminated.  
Beside him, Amanda stirred. She blinked open her big, dark eyes and looked at Martin, a faint smile on her face.  
“Hey, Martin.” She greeted, sleepily.  
“You’re up, early.” Martin pointed out, forcing a quiver out of his voice.  
“Yeah, well…” Amanda shrugged, vaguely. “Hey, you okay?” Her voice was gentle, a tone Martin had heard a few times. In those quiet moments, where the chaos was at a low. It showed how much she really cared, they all knew.  
“Don’t worry about me, Drummer, it’ll do you no good.” Martin replied.  
“Doesn’t matter if it’ll do me any good. I’m always gonna worry about you guys. About you.” Amanda added, like it didn’t make something short circuit in Martin’s brain.  
“Thanks, Drummer.” Martin mumbled. Amanda reached over and peeled one of Martin’s hands from the wheel, instead clasping it in her own.  
“Anytime, Martin.”   
Around them, the first rays of dawn appeared. When Martin glanced over at Amanda, staring out her window, she was illuminated by the sun.

 

The car’s window shattered, sending shards flying through the air. Amanda, triumphantly wielding the bat, whooped. She was echoed by the rest of the group, who set to work destroying all the other cars in the tunnel. Even if they had purpose, they could still have fun causing a little mischief. No one was getting hurt, anyways. Amanda made sure of that.  
Even Martin indulged, pushing the darkness in his brain to the side for one night.  
Vogel giggled, maniacally, somewhere behind Martin, joined by Beast. Cross and Gripps were darting around the tunnel, smashing cars up as if there was nothing else they’d rather be doing. In all likelihood, there probably wasn’t.  
In the thick of things, Amanda bounded up to Martin. He stopped dead in his tracks, listening.  
“Listen, I dunno what’s going on with you, but it’ll all be okay, alright?” She said. “You’re home, with us. You’re not in Blackwing, anymore.”  
Amanda reached up, standing on her toes to do so, and pulled Martin down for a kiss. Martin, still holding onto his bat, wrapped his arms around her and fully embraced the kiss.  
She was here. She was real. She avoided Blackwing before, and would easily do it again. She was a witchakookoo, a member of the Rowdy 3, a drummer, and most importantly, she was Amanda Brotzman. She was Martin’s sunshine in the darkness of his mind.  
Finally, Martin had to pull away. He looked to the rest of his family.  
“Alright, boys, let’s pack it up!” He called.  
The rest of the Rowdy 3 piled into the van, quick as a flash. Martin took the driver’s seat, and Amanda, lovely Amanda, sat beside him. He grabbed her hand, sent her a quick wink, then they were off, disappearing with the growl of their engine.


End file.
